


Come slowly—Eden

by poetroe



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Animals, Coffee Shops, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pining, Red String of Fate, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Strangers to Lovers, bg wuko modern enemies to lovers which means they fight over a parking spot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28790808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetroe/pseuds/poetroe
Summary: Korra works at an animal shelter. Asami is CEO of her own company. A chance meeting results in a coffee date—and then a few more. And then there’s the mysterious red string that has appeared out of nowhere, tied securely around Asami’s index finger.A modern/soulmate AU
Relationships: Bolin & Asami Sato, Korra & Opal (Avatar), Korra/Asami Sato, Mako/Prince Wu (Avatar)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 252





	1. Come slowly—Eden

**Author's Note:**

> Asked my twitter followers to choose from several ships, prompts and tropes to determine my next fic and this is what they chose !! when reading pls keep in mind i myself have a cat and only know dog behavior thru my interactions w my friend’s dog, im sorry for any inaccuracies!
> 
> Fic and chapter titles are from the poem below !! I just started Dickinson recently and will now interpret all of her poems as sapphic :) Updates (hopefully) every weekend, so I hope to see u again next saturday/sunday <3

Come slowly—Eden

Lips unused to Thee—

Bashful—sip thy Jessamines

As the fainting Bee—

Reaching late his flower,

Round her chamber hums—

Counts his nectars—

Enters—and is lost in Balms.

Emily Dickinson, c. 1860

***

Kindred Spirits is an animal shelter on a quiet street a stone’s throw from Republic City’s financial district. Its owner Tenzin prefers to refer to it an ‘animal rehoming service’, but Korra knows better. Three years of working there have shown her that the shelter is some of the cats and dogs’ last stop.

Still, the work is pretty good; she gets to hang with the animals, giving them each a little personal attention as she makes the rounds to feed them, working on their rehabilitation where needed, as well as doing the less fun administrative tasks such as processing admissions and adoptions.

Which is why she tends to let Opal, her coworker and best friend, handle the paperwork side of things.

“You’ve got it in here, right? It’s time to walk the dogs,” Korra says as she grabs a handful of leashes from the office, where Opal is sitting behind the computer.

“Sure,” Opal says, eyes not straying from the screen as she types away in rapid succession.

“Alright, see you in a sec.”

Walking the dogs is the job Korra initially started doing for the shelter, something that she came across when her job at Olive Garden fell through. This is also when she first met Naga, an all-white Great Pyrenees pup with too much energy for her little kennel. After working there for a week or two, Korra took pity on the little pup and started taking her on extra walks, solidifying their friendship. And finally, when she’d saved up enough money, Korra adopted her. The rest is history.

They spend most of their time together at the shelter. Naga has grown about three times as big and four times as heavy as she was when Korra first met her, but she’s a calm and sweet dog, who often sleeps through the mornings Korra works at the shelter.

“Come on, girl,” Korra mutters as she squats in front of her dog and clips on the leash. “Are you going to lead by example today?” Naga barks enthusiastically, pushing her wet nose against Korra’s cheek. “Good girl, Naga,” Korra says, before guiding four of the other dogs from their kennels to the hall and putting them on a leash as well.

Walking five dogs at the same time is something you’ve got to get some experience in, but having Naga there to take the lead often helps the other dogs follow along better. So with only a few delays—the little Pomeranian Banjo has to sniff every tree they pass—Korra takes them through the alley next to the shelter, navigating the narrow backstreets until they arrive at the dog park: a patch of green with some bushes and a few trees that’s nestled in-between four apartment buildings. When all of the dogs have taken care of their business, Korra takes them back.

She doesn’t know why she takes a different route back to the shelter, choosing to walk down the busier streets past tall, glass sky scrapers and fancy offices instead of the same way they came. It’s not even a conscious choice, rather something like an invisible hand, giving her a little push to go right instead of left. The dogs don’t mind; they eagerly explore the different concrete and the new smells as Korra leads them along.

The sun breaks through the clouds, making Korra squint against the light. She brings up a hand to shield her eyes against the momentary brightness—a mistake, one she hasn’t made since her first weeks on the job—the movement causes the handle of Naga’s retractable leash to bump against the others she’s holding and slip out of her hand, clattering to the pavement and scaring the dogs. Three of them all pull on Korra’s other arm in different directions and she almost trips over little Banjo, and the ruckus is enough to make Naga run off.

“Fuck,” Korra exclaims. If only Tenzin would’ve let her invest in some dual leashes.

She almost trips once more over her beat up Forces in her attempt to catch up with her while keeping the other dogs calm.

“Naga! Get back here!” Korra shouts as she sprints down the street, pulling on the leashes of the dogs and making them follow, whether they want to or not. “Naga!” Narrowly avoiding a man in a suit, she rounds the corner and instantly skids to an almost immediate halt.

Tail wagging, panting with her tongue hanging out and looking awfully content, is Naga. Korra’s pounding heart drops as she notices the woman who she had clearly come into collision with, if the dirty streaks on her pristine white blouse are anything to go by.

“I am _so_ sorry,” Korra says as she walks up to them, quickly picking up Naga’s leash. “She got away from me. Looks like you got her famous full-length hug.” The stains and the disheveled black hair do little to distract Korra from the girl’s sharp cheekbones, or her stunning green eyes, and a blush creeps up her neck. “Are you okay?”

The woman pats halfheartedly at the dirt caked to her blouse, before chuckling and petting Naga. “I’m fine, wardrobe malfunction aside.”

“Can I make it up to you?” Korra asks. Something like this hasn’t happened to her since her early days working at the shelter and aside from being embarrassed, she feels bad about ruining this gorgeous woman’s morning. “With a cup of coffee, maybe? I know a great place nearby.”

The girl considers it for a moment, then quickly grabs her phone from her bag and types something. “Sure,” she says when she finishes, shooting her a kind smile. “I’ve got time. My name is Asami, by the way—and this is?”

“Naga,” Korra answers, while Asami strokes the bright white fur of the dog in question. “And I’m Korra.”

The coffeeshop is a few blocks away, but only one street behind the shelter, so Korra quickly drops the dogs off there before walking the rest of the way with Asami. The Busy Bean is Korra’s friend Mako’s little pet project, something he started after leaving college. They serve the best coffee in the city if Mako is to be believed, but Korra doesn’t particularly care about that. She rather prefers the little nooks and crannies he’s managed to create throughout the shop using all types of vintage furniture, resulting in little corners that provide privacy from prying eyes. Indie music plays softly through the speakers, completing the ambiance.

“I’m so sorry, once again,” Korra says with an awkward smile as she carries over their cappuccino’s. She’s taken the liberty of ordering a chocolate chip cookie for Asami, to back up her words. “This usually never happens to me. Or Naga, for that matter.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Asami replies, sipping at the foam of her coffee carefully. “You two gave me a nice excuse to postpone my ten o’clock. I’d rather be here than in a meeting which I know will bore me half to death.” She breaks the cookie in half, handing one part of it back to Korra, the corner of her mouth pulled up in a smile. “So, thank you.”

“A shame about the blouse, though. You look really good in it,” Korra replies, without thinking—the words are out there before her mind can catch up with her mouth, eliciting a chuckle from Asami.

“It’s nothing my dry cleaner can’t fix,” she says. Then, after taking another sip from her cup: “has Naga been at the shelter for long?” The general details of Korra’s job had become clear fairly quickly on their way here, when Korra had explained she did not, in fact, own five dogs, before taking them back inside the shelter.

“Naga came to the shelter as a pup when I had only just started working there,” Korra starts, munching on her cookie. “A white furry ball of energy, that one—it was love at first sight. I started saving half of every paycheck I got until I had enough to adopt her.”

Asami is listening carefully, her vibrant eyes steadfastly watching as Korra recounts some stories from Naga’s early days, then some more recent ones, like how last week she stole a piece of bacon from her plate right under her nose.

The bell at the entrance sounds, signifying a customer, and Mako’s moody voice booms over the soft guitar strings from the speakers as he hurls some insult at the person in the doorway. It’s his rival from the coffeeshop across the street, Korra knows; still, she can’t hear what is being said. It’s just her and Asami inside their own little bubble.

All too quickly, their cups have gone empty and Korra notices the clock in the back nearing noon. She leans back in her seat, running a hand through her cropped brown hair. “I should let you go,” she says. “I’ve been talking for way too long.”

“Not at all,” Asami responds. “This is the most interesting morning I’ve had in a while.”

That makes Korra smile, making her feel like she’d succeeded in making it up to her, at least a little bit. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“It was nice running into you,” Asami says, a smirk pulling on her lips. “And Naga, of course; if we’re literally speaking.”


	2. Lips unused to Thee—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO.....i know i said updates would be weekly but the writing bug got to me and i already finished this second chapter !! im sure yall don't mind :) enjoy reading !!

The bitter taste of coffee lingers in the back of Asami’s throat as she makes her way through the revolving doors of the Future Industries offices. Her meeting with Korra and Naga keeps replaying through her mind as she greets the receptionists and takes the elevator up to the top floor, where her office is.

It’s a bit decadent, for sure; Asami’s ‘office’ takes up the entire floor, an expanse of glass walls, glass windows and space, overlooking the entirety of Republic City and the coastline beyond. It’s not something Asami would’ve picked out for herself, but this was her father’s before he retired and she has many fond memories of playing with paper models of cars and planes on this soft carpet as a child. Besides, it’s most fitting for the CEO of one of the most dynamic and progressive companies in the country.

“Good morning,” she greets her personal assistant, Zhu Li, who raises an eyebrow and pointedly looks at her watch.

“Only for 4 more minutes,” she replies. “What was so important that the investors’ meeting for the new GX model had to be pushed back? And what happened to your blouse?”

How to describe her chance meeting, Asami wonders as she takes a seat behind her mahogany desk. “Divine intervention,” she eventually settles on, grinning at Zhu Li’s eyeroll.

“Whatever you say,” comes the reply. “I’ll get you a clean one.”

“Thank you, Zhu Li,” Asami answers. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Zhu Li leaves, pulling the glass door shut behind her. Asami relaxes, leaning back against the supple leather of her office chair. Her eye falls on a flash of red.

There, tied securely to her index finger, is a thin, red thread. Blinking, Asami does a double take. When had that gotten there? Surely, she would have noticed a string being tied to her finger, some time between getting out of bed this morning and now. Her thoughts halt. Did Korra…? No, that was impossible. Then she notices it’s not just her finger—the string starts there, but follows the path Asami had just taken: it lays barely noticeable on the soft carpet of her office, goes under the door Zhu Li had just shut and only seems to stop at the elevator doors.

Asami turns her hand around slowly as she observes the thread, gaze going back and forth between her finger and the string on the ground. Maybe the sleep deprivation is making her hallucinate. She briefly wonders what’s on the other side, if she were to follow the thread.

It seems to be existing between reality and fantasy. Zhu Li hadn’t seen it, or she would’ve said something about Asami not just wearing a muddy blouse, but having a red string tied around her finger like a ring. Even now, under her watchful eye, it seems to phase in and out of existence. Still, when she grabs it and pulls, the red thread tugs on her finger, digging into her skin.

In both her enthusiasm to get to the bottom of this mystery, as well as for the sake of her sanity, Asami opens up her laptop and searches for ‘red string tied to finger’. Research is at the fundament of her job and it never fails to calm her down, usually.

There are several folklore tales about red strings and Asami patiently reads all of them. In some traditions, wearing a red string around the left wrist serves as a talisman against the evil eye. There is also a story about a matchmaker, an old man who carries around a book that has a record of all of the soulmates who will eventually meet each other. The old matchmaker also carries a large bag full of small pieces of red string. When he ties one string to one of the people named in the book, they will be linked to their soulmate by that red string. They will be destined to be together.

Another legend refers to human anatomy. In the endlessly complex network of blood vessels connecting all parts of your body, all starting from the heart, there are several paths that run through your arms, ending in the fingers. According to this legend, this red ‘thread’ emanating from the heart doesn’t end at the fingertip, but rather flows out in the shape of an invisible red string. Like the other tale, this string too serves the purpose of intertwining with the red strings of other people, connecting the hearts of soulmates.

Asami leans back with a sigh. _Soulmates_. There is a concept she is utterly unfamiliar with. However, most of the websites she skims seem to agree: at least according to the general lore, people who are connected by this thread are destined, bound together by fate. No matter how much the string might get tangled, contracted or stretched, strained and tested; it will never break.

She can’t help but think about Korra.

That girl, with her easy grin, her icy blue eyes offset by the dark blush coloring her cheeks, her stories about the great white dog that had crashed into Asami, her love for the creature dripping off every word.

The two of them, sitting on a soft couch in a secluded corner of the Busy Bean, sipping cappuccino’s and sharing a cookie.

It’s nothing as extreme as ‘love at first sight’, but if that girl really turns out to be her soulmate—a concept Asami is still not sure even exists—she finds she wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.

Asami runs her hand through her hair, red thread momentarily forgotten, and grabs her phone from her purse. Bolin picks up at the second ring.

“Bolin and Pabu residence, what’s up?”

A grin spreads on her face. “Hey, Bolin. It’s me. Have you got time to talk?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

Asami takes her bottom lip between her teeth as she hesitates, trying to find the right words. “I… might have met someone, this morning.”

“This morning?”

“Yeah. Her dog sort of attack-hugged me, then she took me out for coffee. At your brother’s place, if you’ll believe it.”

“Wow,” Bolin laughs, as the line crackles. “No time wasted, huh? She sounds great.”

“That’s the thing,” Asami says. She catches the red string between her finger and her thumb and rolls it around. “She really was. We were at the café for two hours, but it felt only like a fraction of that time. I really liked her.”

“Did you get her number?” Bolin asks, eliciting a groan from Asami. Her fingers find purchase in her hair, tugging, mussing it.

Admitting it feels like defeat. “No. To be honest I would have, but I forgot. We were just so caught up in conversation…”

“That sucks,” Bolin says, and Asami can hear the grimace on his face.

“Yeah. Who knows if I’ll ever see her again,” she mutters. “This city is so big.”

“Who knows,” Bolin echoes in agreement, “but still, you never know!” They’ve been best friends for years, which is how Asami knows he truly believes in what he says next. “Maybe you two are meant to be.”


	3. Bashful—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got this one finished early so u guys are getting it early !! ill try to finish chapter 4 this weekend as well, thank u for sticking with me so far!

Her unexpected encounter with Asami the other day keeps playing through Korra’s head the entire week after—not continuously, but it will pop up at the most random moments.

She’ll be feeding the cats when Asami’s staccato chuckle echoes in her ears, or when she’s filling in the paperwork for a new arrival, that pair of shining green eyes will appear before the page. Korra wishes she hadn’t talked so much and rather had asked more about the other girl, who she still knows next to nothing about.

Korra reaches in the kennel of an all-black kitten they’d taken in about a month ago. The little cat mewls softly when her fingers make contact with the silky hairs on the top of her head and she starts purring when Korra pets her, pushing her head against her hand with fervor. Korra chuckles at her enthusiasm and slowly blinks at her a couple of times.

She and Opal are in charge of names, but they hadn’t found a good one for this little one, yet. With her shiny black coat and green eyes, Korra briefly wonders if they shouldn’t name her after Asami.

“Hey,” Opal says as she enters the room. “Do you want to go get some coffee? Our break starts soon.”

“Sure,” Korra replies as she closes the kennel, dusts off her knees and stands up. “I’ll go get it.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” Opal starts, but Korra cuts her off.

“You stay here, man the fort for a little bit. You’ve been cooped up in that office for long enough, I know for a fact that Banjo is craving some Opal time.”

Opal snorts a laugh. “Alright, then,” she says, already making her way over to the Pomeranian. “Take back a brownie for me?”

“Got it,” Korra says and with that, she’s out the door.

Mako is sweeping the floor when she arrives at the Bean. “Don’t you have employees to do that?” Korra asks.

“They seem to be physically incapable of doing the corners,” he grumbles in reply. “You know what they say, if you want a job to be done well, you have to do it yourself. And I need the shop to be looking its best.”

“Are you expecting the health department?” Korra teases as she plops down in a nearby settee. “Or is Wu coming by again later?” The least well-kept secret of this street is the rivalry of the two coffeeshops on it that are, as if by fate, situated directly opposite of each other. Less than ten steps will take you from the rustic Busy Bean and across the street to the sleek and modern Delish, and its owner, Wu.

A long history of fighting over clientele, coffee quality and a coveted parking space has kept the rivalry bitter and alive ever since Wu moved his business into the neighborhood—often resulting in the both of them making impromptu visits the other’s shop, only to deliver a scathing remark and leave. Korra thinks it’s hilarious.

Mako gives her a tired look, obviously not in the mood. “Your usual?”

“And a brownie, please,” Korra smiles sweetly, before handing him the money. “Thanks, boss.”

She’s lost in thought, thinking about rivalries and coffee dates, the smell of freshly grounded beans underlining it all, when a figure enters the shop in her peripheral vision. As if she stepped right out of Korra’s daydream, Asami is suddenly standing in front of her.

“Hey,” Korra greets her.

“Hey,” Asami returns. “Long time no see.”

Korra huffs a laugh. “Yeah. It’s nice seeing you again.”

“You, too. I’m actually glad I ran into you,” Asami says. From the bar, Mako calls out her name, so Korra stands up and walks over, Asami following a few steps behind.

“Why is that?” she asks as she pockets the brownie and grabs the two cups.

“Well, when you said you work at an animal shelter—” Asami starts, but she stops herself. “Hold on. Are you going there now?” Korra nods. “Then I’ll just order mine to go.”

They walk back together, chatting a little about the weather as they go. It’s a short walk and after five minutes, Korra turns her back to the door of the shop, pushing it open with her elbow as she carries the coffees inside.

“Welcome to Kindred Spirits,” she says as she sets down a cup on the counter, handing the other one and the brownie to Opal before stuffing her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “This is my friend, Opal; she works here with me.”

Opal sticks one hand up in greeting, before disappearing out the back with her coffee and her brownie, leaving the two of them to it.

“So,” Korra says, leaning against the counter. “What can I help you with?”

“I was wondering if you could do me a favor,” Asami says as she sets down her purse on the counter and tucks some loose strands behind her ear. Her jet black hair is pulled back into a ponytail today, but a few rebellious wisps still persist.

“Of course,” Korra replies. “Anything.”

That broadens Asami’s smile. “So, I live alone. I have for a while now, but after meeting you and Naga I’ve started thinking about adopting a cat. Or a dog, though I don’t know if I’d have enough time to walk it.”

“Cats are definitely easier in that respect,” Korra says. “And while most of them love attention and affection, they’re very independent animals.”

“Sounds like my kind of pet,” Asami smiles. “I do live in an apartment, however, so they wouldn’t be able to go outside… That isn’t a problem, is it?”

“Not at all,” Korra answers. “If anything, it’s safer; outdoor cats tend to get into fights, or accidents, and things like health problems are easier to miss if they spend a lot of time outside the house. Although you would have to miss out on receiving the _presents_ they take inside with them—” The sour look on Asami’s face tells her she knows exactly what Korra is talking about.

“I could do without dead mouses or birds in my house,” she says. Korra chuckles.

“In any case, I think I’ve got the perfect candidate to be your new roommate.” She walks over to the black kitten’s kennel, kneels in front of it, opens the door and carries her out carefully. The little creature looks around the shelter with curious eyes, her pupils blown wide as they dart from Korra, to Asami, to a car passing by outside and back to Asami again as she moves closer. She enters Korra’s personal space, leaning forward to look at and gently pet the cat in Korra’s arms. Her perfume smells like sweet, like vanilla and strawberries.

“She’s beautiful,” Asami says.

Like you, Korra wants to say, but she stops herself. “She really is,” she says instead. “We haven’t gotten around to picking out a name for her yet, but maybe you want to give her one. That is, if you would like to adopt her?”

Please say yes, she thinks. Not only would the little baby in her arms be a great friend to Asami and end up in a comfortable home, Korra would also like a valid excuse to talk to Asami a little bit longer, now that she’s in front of her once more. Please, say…

“Yes,” Asami says, smiling sweetly, showing off her dimples. “I would love to.”

Korra beams, her grin all bared teeth as she hands the cat to Asami, guiding her hands where they need to go to comfortably hold the furry black kitten. “Great!”

They go through the forms quickly with some help from Opal—Korra is more focused on the new information she’s privy to, like Asami’s last name being Sato and the fact she now, technically, has her number—and then Korra grabs some of the essentials from the back: a travel carrier with a blanket, with some snacks tossed in to make the trip a bit more comfortable for the kitten.

“You can borrow the carrier for the trip to your house, but you’ll have to buy the rest yourself. The litterbox, food and water bowls, a scratching pole, some toys. The works.” Korra observes her for a second. The cat is laying comfortably in Asami’s lap, eyes closed and entirely relaxed under her ministrations. “I could come with if you want, help you stock up on the essentials.”

“If you would, then yes, thank you,” Asami replies, shooting her a grateful smile. “But you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Korra assures her. “You asked me for a favor when you came in here, but you’re actually the one who’s helping us out.”

“Is that so?” Asami asks, eyeing her curiously.

Korra’s hand find it’s way to her neck, scratching at her short hair awkwardly. “Yeah. The shelter takes in any animals that need it, but of course we need to at least breakeven to continue to exist. The money we make from adoptions is crucial for us to continue taking care of our animals. So really, I should be the one thanking you.”

“Well, consider us even,” comes the reply. “You’ve helped me plenty.”

It is no trouble accompanying Asami, first to a nearby pet shop and then to Asami’s apartment building carrying all the essentials for housing a cat. They only say goodbye at the front door, after Korra has helped her bring up everything. It’s the least she can do, and she’s happy to do it. Asami’s delighted laughter when the little kitten immediately takes off to explore her new home makes all of it worth it.

When she lays in bed that night, Naga laying on the cover with her head resting on Korra’s thigh, she thinks Asami showing up out of the blue and adopting a cat is the most surprising thing that could’ve happened to her this week. Of course, that particular surprise is blown out of the water when she shows up to work the next morning, with Naga in tow, and Opal shows her the anonymous donation of a hundred grand, deposited in the shelter’s bank account overnight.


	4. sip thy Jessamines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the plot thickens........thank u for reading and see u next weekend!

It started with a little tug on her finger, right before she stepped through the door and into the warm air inside the shop, heavy with the smell of coffee. It ended with a pair of shining blue eyes narrowing with laughter and a tiny black cat, digging her claws in the fabric of her sofa to avoid falling off.

Having moved passed her initial surprise and confusion, Asami isn’t particularly disturbed at the sensation. So, when she’s sitting at her desk the next morning and the string around her index finger is pulled taut, she knows she should just sit back. Whatever unknowable forces may be at play, Asami has seen enough to know that it means she’ll see Korra again, soon.

Surely enough, shortly after having discussed some plans with Zhu Li, Asami is roused from her concentration by the elevator doors opening. Out steps Korra, beautifully mismatched to the sleek interior of the hall with her ripped jeans and faded t-shirt. Her work forgotten, Asami watches through the glass walls as Korra makes her way to her office.

Korra looks a little nervous as she knocks on the door. It’s a new look on her. With a grin, Asami motions for her to come in. It makes sense, considering they’re on her turf now. “Hello, Korra,” she says.

“Hey,” Korra greets, returning a crooked smile. “I hope you’re not busy—the lady downstairs said it was fine, but still, I…” She runs a hand through her hair, fruitlessly tucking some strands behind her ear. “Well, this is my first time dealing with a _CEO_. I didn’t want to disturb you. Cool office, by the way.”

Asami can’t help but chuckle. She stands up and walks over to a couch angled towards the large windows, gesturing for Korra to join her. “How did you find out?” she asks.

“This is embarrassing,” Korra admits with a grimace as she plops down next to Asami, “but I googled you, after you wrote down your full name on the adoption forms.”

The red thread tied to her finger hangs unseen from her hand as Asami basks in the exhilaration that comes from seeing Korra look as flustered as she feels herself.

“My last shred of integrity is the only reason why I didn’t just look for your phone number and call you directly instead.” Her eyes meet Asami’s, then turn to steel. “Especially after the anonymous donation we received.” Asami returns her gaze, undauntedly.

“You did? That’s great.”

Korra’s eyes narrow. “I just thought, after the things I told you… It was highly suspicious.”

Asami has to don her best poker face to prevent a guilty grin from breaking through. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Completely ignoring that statement, Korra shifts closer, until their knees are touching. “It could all be a coincidence, of course,” she starts, a grin forming around her lips. “If not for the fact that when I googled you, I also came across the fact that you’re filthy rich.”

A snorting laugh escapes Asami’s lips and she crosses her legs. “You don’t have to sound so accusatory,” she replies, bumping into Korra’s knee playfully as she leans into the other girl’s space. “You and Opal helped me out with Bagheera, so I decided to help you guys out in return. Which really was no problem at all, seeing as I have the means.”

“…You named her Bagheera? Like in Jungle Book?” Korra’s eyes are shining and she looks to have forgotten all about the donation for a second.

“Yeah. It’s fitting, right?”

“Very,” Korra replies, her gaze on the deep blue sky in consideration. “She always did remind me of a miniature panther.”

“Now, she just has to learn that it’s her name,” Asami chuckles.

“You should make sure you call her it a lot,” Korra tells her. It’s endearing how she’ll switch into helpful mode the moment the conversation shifts towards animal care. “Like when you feed her or play with her. At least, that’s how I taught Naga.”

“Thank you,” Asami says, smiling. “There you go, helping me again.”

A blush heats up Korra’s cheeks and she scratches at the short hairs in her neck restlessly. “I can’t help it sometimes,” she mutters. Her eyes are gazing at something outside, far below and far away.

“I love that about you,” Asami responds, and the moment the words leave her mouth, she feels that they are true.

“Still,” Korra chuckles. “You didn’t have to donate _that_ much money. Makes me feels a little bad to accept all that without doing something in return.”

Asami considers her for a moment, her eyes never leaving Korra. She is relaxed, leaning back in the couch in Asami’s office while she’s being showered in the warm light of the high noon sun, that spills through the windows. It frames her muscles well and makes her dark skin seem to glow. “If you really want to…” she starts, but she stops herself. This idea already sounds crazy in her head, it will most likely sound crazy if she proposes it.

“What?” Korra asks, looking at her curiously. “I’m serious, you know. Whatever you need.” Asami catches her bottom lip with her teeth, still feeling hesitant. She’s testing Korra’s patience; the girl elbows her arm when she waits too long to respond, the warm skin on hers making Asami’s heart skip a beat.

“Okay. But you can’t laugh at me.” Korra is already laughing—her chest shaking a bit as she tries to hold it in, her grin threatening to crack and reveal her smile—Asami has already forgiven her.

The comfortable atmosphere that seems to exist between them at every occasion once again puts Asami at ease. Only a very select group of people knows to act this way around her; to make her feel more like Asami and less like Miss Sato, CEO of Future Industries. They’re still little more than strangers, but this feeling is unmistakable. Another small tug on her finger and, by extension, her heart, settles it.

“My father has always had a certain set of expectations for me,” Asami starts. She feels her own blush creep up on her cheeks at what she’s about to ask of Korra. “I’ve always been honest to him about my achievements—I wanted to make him proud, so I studied hard, worked harder, then took over the company…” A sigh leaves her lungs. Korra is listening patiently. “I’m an honest person. Except for when I told him I was seeing someone. Which I’m not—to be clear.”

“So you’re single,” Korra says. “It was just a little white lie. Nothing wrong with that.”

Asami grimaces. “True. Although it puts me in a pretty uncomfortable situation, seeing as my father expects me and my significant other to attend a company event next week. That he will attend as well, as founder and retired CEO.”

The snort that comes from Korra is another thing that makes Asami like her, another reason why she doesn’t mind the red string and whatever it means—instantly, she feels more at ease, her nerves melting like snow before the morning sun. “Can’t you tell him you broke up?”

Asami shakes her head, then runs her hand through her hair. “You’re underestimating how long I’ve been keeping this up,” she tells Korra with a wry smile. “I got dumped the week before two dinners and one charity auction already. That’s three fake relationships down the drain, I’m not sure I can get away with any more ‘bad luck’.” Her fingers curl around the air quotes.

From her lopsided grin and the challenging look in Korra’s eyes, it’s clear she’s hearing what Asami is insinuating. Asami supposes the competitive expression on her face is better than one of complete disgust. “So you want me to…?”

Pretend to be my girlfriend for my father? “Yes,” Asami sighs, uncrossing her legs. “It’s a lot to ask, I’m aware—”

“No, I’ll do it,” Korra replies. Though she seems to find the whole thing hilarious, she does manage to sound impressively serious. “It’ll be nice. I’ll wine and dine you, treat you like a lady, tell your father: ‘mister Sato, I assure you I have no bad intentions with your beautiful daughter, let me treat you to a drink’—I know I don’t look it, but I can be a real gentleman,” she grins.

Asami chuckles, a hand coming up to clutch the top button of her blouse where her heart attempts to pound its way out of her chest. “Thank you,” she says. “Really. I can’t seem to say it enough.”

“Of course,” Korra answers. Her warm hand comes to rest on Asami’s knee, her thumb rubbing over the black fabric of her pants. “I think it’s gonna be fun! Convincing your father will be easy.”

Judging the way Korra makes her feel every time she touches her, Asami has no doubt she will believably look like she’s in love. “Yes,” she sighs, patting the back of Korra’s hand. “And it’ll be smooth sailing once the introductions are over. You can just stand there and look pretty.”

The way Korra’s cheeks darken and her fingers flex around Asami’s knee speak volumes and Asami smirks. In her peripheral vision is Korra’s hand, largely covered by her own, and a little flash of red that peeks out from underneath.


	5. As the fainting Bee—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im thinking i should probably let go of my updating schedule......i was so excited after the last chapter that i went ahead and spent today writing this one !! can't believe we're already halfway through the fic now... anyways i hope you guys like it, its 2:30 for me now and ive got work tomorrow so goodnight xx

“What should I wear?” Korra wonders aloud. She’s sitting on the edge of the desk in the shelter’s office, her hand absentmindedly rubbing Naga’s head.

“Do you still have that suit from our high school graduation?” Opal asks. “You looked pretty dashing in it.”

“Hmm…”

“Or we could go shopping,” Opal proposes, wearing a mean grin. Korra rolls her eyes; from experience, she knows a shopping trip with her best friend will eventually result in her carrying six bags for Opal without having bought what she went shopping for in the first place.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” she mutters, scratching Naga behind the ears. “I’ll just wear the suit.”

“I still think it’s crazy the two of you are going to these lengths.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Korra counters. “It’s just dinner.” She thinks about Asami’s words, back in her office. “I just have to sit there and look pretty.”

“Wear the suit, then,” Opal concludes, before returning to whatever it was she was doing on the computer before Korra came in and demanded her attention. “Trust me. You’ll look hot.”

Opal, as usual, turns out to be right. At least, Korra thinks so as she turns around before her mirror. The suit is a deep midnight blue and still fits her like a glove. She’s left the top buttons of her black dress shirt open, revealing her collarbones and the sleek gold chain she always wears during fancy occasions. The only thing decidedly _not_ fancy about her outfit are the all-black, slightly scuffed Vans on her feet.

It’ll have to do, Korra thinks as she sends Asami a text. Five minutes later she gets one back. I’m outside, Asami writes; it’s a warm night so Korra doesn’t take a coat, instead just grabbing her keys and making her way downstairs.

The limo looks sorely out of place in Korra’s neighborhood.

“Hey,” Korra says after she opens the door and enters, sitting down next to her date for the night. Asami is wearing a floor-length dress, that starts as a bright red where it encloses her neck, then fades to a dark black near her knees. “Wow, you look amazing.”

She doesn’t even notice the inside of the limo, with its neon lights, leather seats and dual mini bar. “Thanks,” Asami chuckles, her red painted lips pulling up. “You clean up nicely yourself.”

“I wore this at my high school graduation,” Korra admits, awkwardly pulling at the collar of her shirt. “It’s the nicest thing I own.”

“It’s perfect,” Asami assures her.

A brief silence falls over them, but it’s not unpleasant. Asami is warm where she’s pressed against her side, despite there being more than enough space on the backseat. It’s nice, Korra thinks. She settles into it, looking at the streets passing them by outside and quietly humming along to the faint music that’s coming from the speakers.

She feels Asami’s eyes on her and, after a beat, turns her head to meet her gaze. “What?”

Asami shakes her head. “Nothing. I’m just glad it’s you, doing this with me. Even though we only met so recently…” She chuckles again, her shoulder bumping into Korra’s as she exhales. “You just make me feel so at ease.”

Korra is reminded of Asami breaking that cookie in half, offering it to her with an effortless smile. And the other day, in her office overlooking the city… It had felt like they were the only ones in the entire building. “I know what you mean,” she replies, smiling.

It’s only when they arrive at the venue that Korra realizes this dinner party is a bigger deal than she initially expected. The entrance to the hotel has a red carpet, which leads to a large ballroom that has a stage, a dancefloor and a live band, as well as about twenty round tables. Asami links their arms together from the moment they exit the limo, holding her close as she whispers directives in her ear: “wait; smile for the camera’s—” The flashing lights blind Korra temporarily as she remembers Asami is the boss of one of the biggest companies in the country, making her kind of famous. “—this way, our table should be over there… Hold on, that’s Raiko, we should go say hi.”

She introduces Korra to all of her acquaintances as her girlfriend, smiling sweetly at her like a lovesick fool for extra measure and it causes a blush to stay on Korra’s cheeks semi-permanently. Asami presses a kiss to her cheek as they finally make their way to their designated table. “Keep it up,” she whispers, squeezing Korra’s upper arm reassuringly. “You’re doing great.”

“They serve food here, right?” Korra responds. She pats Asami’s hand softly, holding it in place on her arm. “Being your girlfriend is more taxing than I expected it to be.”

Asami laughs. “They do, don’t worry. Now, that’s my father over there—” Korra glances at the table and sees a smartly dressed man with round glasses on the bridge of his nose, his greying hair slicked back, his white beard neatly trimmed. He’s looking at them inquisitively—Korra’s heart skips a beat and she turns back to Asami.

Without thinking, both of her hands come up to cradle Asami’s face, her palms on Asami’s warm cheeks and the tips of her fingers brushing against her dark hair. “Trust me,” Korra speaks silently, before resolutely stepping in and holding Asami still as she presses a kiss to her lips. The noise of surprise coming from the other girl is quickly silenced when Korra moves against her, adding a little bit of tongue while her hands slide down to Asami’s sides and further to her back, before pulling her flush against her chest. Her heart is hammering now and she hopes Asami can’t feel it. With a pop, Korra break the kiss and pulls back, though she keeps Asami in her arms. In response to Asami’s questioning gaze, Korra blushes and looks away. “He was looking at us,” she mutters. “I wanted to make sure we sell it.”

Asami chuckles, effectively lifting a nervous weight from Korra’s stomach. “Good thinking,” she mumbles in reply as she leans back in, pressing a chaste kiss to Korra’s lips before stepping away. Her hand finds Korra’s and by tangled fingers, she pulls her along towards the table.

Her father stands up once they reach it, smiling and his eyes shining as Asami lets go of Korra for the first time that night to hug him. “Asami,” he says. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Hey dad,” she replies, smiling more softly than Korra has ever seen her do.

“And who is this?” her father continues, turning his attention to Korra, who feels her cheeks heat up again.

“My girlfriend, Korra—Korra, this my father, Hiroshi.” Korra grabs Hiroshi’s extended hand and makes sure to squeeze hard when she shakes it.

“Nice to finally meet you, sir.”

“Ah, a determined handshake,” he remarks. “I like that. Come, let us sit.”

Dinner has already been served, thanks to how long it took them to get through the room with greeting everyone Asami knows, so Korra wastes no time to stab her fork into a piece of grilled broccoli. She has just popped it in her mouth when Hiroshi says: “I have to be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to meet you tonight, Korra. My daughter tends to be a little secretive about her romantic escapades.”

“Well, it takes a while to find out whether a connection is real,” Asami retorts. She’s sitting between her father and Korra. Under the table, her hand finds Korra’s knee.

That’s a game two can play. “I guess that means I’m the real deal,” Korra says, grinning as she leans back in her chair, shooting a discrete wink Asami’s way—Asami turns her head away quickly, but she can’t hide the growing redness in her cheeks.

“I suppose you are,” Hiroshi says, before taking a sip from his wine. He’s still looking at the two of them, questioningly. “So, how did you meet?”

Korra exhales; that’s easy enough. “A chance meeting, you could call it; it was kind of awkward, actually,” she starts. “My dog got away from me for a second, then ran straight into Asami.”

“Her name is Naga,” Asami adds. Her fingers are splayed on Korra’s thigh now and slowly creeping upward. When Korra’s eyes flit up again and meet the cool gaze of her date, the other woman grins. “She’s a real sweetheart.” Suddenly, Korra feels jittery for an entirely different reason than meeting Asami’s father. With lightly trembling fingers, she picks up her glass of wine and takes a healthy swig.

After about two hours of eating dinner and making conversation with Hiroshi, the party has progressed deeper into the night. Multiple acquaintances have come and gone, leaving the three of them to enjoy dessert on their own. The band has since picked up the pace, having moved on from soft ballads to up-tempo music that has attracted a crowd to the dancefloor. During a lull in the conversation, Asami leans in, her lips brushing against Korra’s ear as she whispers: “want to go dance?”

Korra doesn’t reply right away—she hadn’t expected Asami to go beyond the bare minimum to make sure their fake relationship appeared believable, but the other girl had been proving her wrong all night. The way Asami can’t seem to keep her hands to herself and the kiss Korra initiated herself… She isn’t entirely opposed to it. It may all be fake, purely to keep up appearances, but being intimate with Asami like this is nice. With the way those green eyes are pleading again now, it’s especially hard to resist; Korra grabs the hand that is still on her leg with her own and nods.

“Mister Sato,” she nods at Hiroshi as the both of them stand up, “if you’ll excuse us.” The formality of her words makes Hiroshi chuckle as he waves them away, towards the dancefloor.

Asami pulls her along to a dim corner of the room, just adjacent to the dancefloor. They’re standing somewhat out of sight from any prying eyes, but that’s the last thing on Korra’s mind. With a grin, she snakes her arms around Asami’s waist, pulling her close. “Are you enjoying yourself, my love?”

A wild laugh escapes from Asami’s lips and she’s smirking when she leans into Korra, resting her head on her shoulder. “More than I expected,” Asami admits. They stay like that, lazily swaying to the music. “You’re really good at this.”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Korra grins. “I’m a gentleman. Real girlfriend material.” Their knees bump together and Korra has to make a strangle little jump to avoid stepping on Asami’s toes. “Whoops, my bad.”

Asami chuckles again. “I’m really glad I met you, Korra.”

The words hit her hard; Korra feels her breath catch in her throat while her heart seems to jump. They are spoken intimately, here in their little bubble on the edge of the dancefloor, where it’s just the two of them. Korra returns them honestly. “Me, too.”

Being Asami’s pretend girlfriend for the night is a great excuse, but unlike before, it’s at the very back of Korra’s mind when she leans in and kisses Asami. This time, Asami seems prepared; she firmly grasps the lapels of Korra’s suit to hold her in place as their lips move against one another. Korra briefly wonders if Asami can feel the difference between that first kiss and this one. She wonders what it would mean, if she does—then Asami softly bites in her lower lip, and Korra’s head goes blank again.


	6. Reaching late his flower,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, this update took longer than i wanted it to, partly due to the fact i started my MA program this week !! im gonna be busy again so future updates might come a bit slower but i'll do my best to give yall a new chapter at least every two weeks. thank u for reading and see u at the next one !!

“Hi, welcome to Delish! My name is Wu, how I can I help you today?” Asami returns the broad grin being directed her way with a small smile of her own.

“Two cappuccino’s, please.”

“Coming right up!” As she waits for her order, Asami takes her time to look around the coffeeshop. Its position opposite to Mako’s establishment is fitting considering its aesthetic is also the complete opposite; the Busy Bean is dripping in that cozy living room vibe with its mismatched vintage furniture and low lighting, but Delish looks like it could be an Apple store with its sleek design. Everything is a pristine white and black with sharp lines and curves, the tables and seats matching with the modern vision except for one robust wooden table, next to the shop’s window.

Asami takes the cups and sits on the black leather couch on the other side of the shop, waiting.

“I took the liberty of ordering for the both of us,” she starts, after Korra enters the shop and joins her there. Naga is with her and she approaches Asami with a violently wagging tail, pushing her nose against her hand as Asami attempts to pet her. “Hello to you, too, Naga.”

“Oh, great, thanks,” Korra says, sounding a little winded, as she grabs her cup. She immediately takes a big gulp, her expression twitching with pain as she swallows the no doubt still scalding coffee. Asami can’t help but chuckle.

“Do you want something to eat? It’s my treat.” she asks. Then, with a twinkle in her eye: “maybe some ice?”

Korra snorts and bumps their shoulders together. “No, thanks.”

“I mean it,” Asami says. “You deserve it, after your stellar performance.” It’s an endearing gesture she makes when she feels embarrassed, the way her hand shoots up and scratches at the short hair in her neck; it manages to entirely disarm Asami every time.

“I had fun,” she admits with a grin. “Your dad is nice, too. Besides, the fact we pulled it off is more thanks to you—I don’t think it actually mattered who you’d have gone with.”

“No way,” Asami counters, shaking her head, then running her hand through her hair. “You should give yourself more credit.”

Korra looks at her, curiously. “It could’ve been anyone else, if you’d looked at them _that_ way.”

And that’s exactly why it could _not_ have been anyone else, Asami thinks as she keeps Korra’s gaze.

The wine had gone to her head about halfway through the night. Her nerves were probably what gave her the urge to drink more than she usually would; and maybe that’s what had caused her to act intimate with Korra so liberally.

A blush rises on Asami’s cheeks at the memory. It was easy enough to act under the guise of ‘I need to do this to keep up appearances’, but she really spent close to the entire night touching Korra, whether that was their linked arms, her hand on Korra’s thigh, a loose embrace as they danced, or a kiss. They kissed _twice_ , she remembers abashedly.

She would be deeply embarrassed about behaving like that if it wasn’t for Korra, who seemed to have had no reservations about the whole thing. Even now, she’s the epitome of comfort, sipping her coffee as she sits sagged against the back of the couch. There is no space between them, Korra’s bare arm pressing against Asami’s.

The red string hangs off her finger, painfully bright.

“So,” Korra starts, “how’s Bagheera? She settling in alright?”

“Yeah,” Asami nods. “She’s great—I actually have a hard time leaving her, so I’ve started to work from home a lot more.”

“Aw,” Korra says with a grin. “I know how you feel. I’m glad my boss allows me to take Naga with me to work; that way she can play around with the other shelter dogs and I don’t have to miss her.” Both of her hands find their way in Naga’s thick, white fur and ruffle the hairs roughly. “Right, girl?” Naga lets out a short bark in response, causing Korra to chuckle, a low staccato that causes something to uncoil in Asami’s gut.

“I’m sure you have the same with Naga,” Asami starts, “but it’s pretty amazing how animals have their own distinct personalities. I’ve never really had pets before, so it’s my first time experiencing something like that for myself.”

“Oh, definitely,” Korra replies. “So what’s Bagheera like?”

“She definitely has an adventurous streak. I’d be lying if I said part of the reason why I stay home isn’t to keep her from hanging in the curtains.”

The door to the shop opens and is subsequently slammed shut, drawing Asami’s eyes to the person who just entered. It’s Mako, his heavy brow furrowed in annoyance. She moves to nudge Korra, but when she looks over she sees the other girl is already looking at him, smirking slightly.

“You know about this whole thing?” Korra asks in a whisper. Asami nods—Bolin had been giving her sporadic updates about the rivalry, which she’s about to tell Korra—when the show starts.

“Wu,” Mako says while marching up to the counter.

“Mako,” Wu answers, equally cold.

“You parked in my spot again.” It’s an accusation Wu isn’t fazed by in the least. According to Bolin, it’s the crux of this whole conflict; parking is notoriously bad in this area, and both coffeeshop owners have laid claim to the one spot directly outside.

“Must we always have this same discussion?” Wu whines as he turns his back to Mako, busying his hands with unimportant chores. “It’s closer to my shop, which makes it _my_ spot.”

“That’s bullshit,” Mako retorts. “My side of the street doesn’t have any parking spots at all; also the distance doesn’t matter. My shop was here first, so I’ve been using it longer, meaning it belongs to _me_.”

“Well, if you’ve already been using it for so long, that means it’s only fair to let me have a turn, huh?” Wu replies, turning back with a grin.

Mako rolls his eyes. “You literally steal it from me every week.”

“Hypocrite! You do exactly the same!”

The whole argument and how invested both men are in it are bordering on absurd and Asami has to strain the muscles in her face to keep her expression neutral. She glances over at Korra—a mistake, because as soon as their eyes meet, the both of them crack up.

“Can you believe they’re still keeping this up?” Korra laughs, trying to keep her voice a whisper.

“If it’s this much of a problem, you’d think they might as well commute together,” Asami mutters in response.

“Nah, I think they enjoy this too much,” Korra speculates. “The arguing, I mean. If it’s not the parking spot, it’ll be about the coffee, or stealing clients.”

Asami snorts at that; it’s like the coffeeshop owner’s equivalent of pulling pigtails on the playground. Her fingers find the thread tied to the index finger of her other hand, touching it absentmindedly.

Though she’s tried to keep her eyes from straying there, Asami couldn’t help but notice a familiar flash of red on Korra’s finger, from the moment she joined her on the couch. Korra’s and hers both lay on the tiled floor in a tangled mess, the one thread indistinguishable from the other, the both of them leading to somewhere outside.

Asami’s chest constricts when she thinks about the implications of that, but her mind is quick to come up with a counterstrategy. Like, maybe she has a newfound power, an acute awareness of this soulmate phenomenon that other people don’t have. As inconspicuously as she can, Asami glances over where Wu and Mako are still arguing. Their hands are bare. As are those of the other people in the shop.

Despite that, the thread tied to Korra’s finger remains visible to her, as clear as day.

“Say,” Asami starts, as she fidgets with her own thread. “This might be a weird question, but… Have you ever thought about the concepts of soulmates? Being connected, by something like an invisible string.”

Korra sips her coffee, considering the question for a moment before answering. “Sure,” she says. “Hasn’t everyone?”

“And do you believe in it?”

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so,” Korra answers. The sensation of her heart falling down her chest overtakes Asami for a second, but she wills the feeling to go away. Korra can’t see the string—that comes as no surprise. That’s what she’d always assumed, from their first meeting onwards.

Still, Asami can’t help herself. “Not at all?”

Maybe Korra hears the uncertainty in her question, because she covers Asami’s hand with her own, squeezing it as she shoots Asami a sincere smile. It’s a meaningful look, and being on the receiving end of it, Asami feels like the cerulean of Korra’s eyes can see all the way to her soul. “I guess I just think I don’t need fate to know who I’m meant to be with.”


	7. Round her chamber hums—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, it's been a while !! my master has kept me crazy busy so I haven't been able to write much, between a quick valentines day oneshot and finally this chapter. I hope the length makes up for the wait!

“You’re seriously abandoning me during our break _again_?” Opal sighs, right as Korra is about to leave the shelter. “What does Asami Sato have that I don’t have? Besides a fortune.” She taps her chin thoughtfully. “And a decent height. And her own company. Actually, I see why you date her.”

“It’s not a date,” Korra replies. “It’s just coffee.”

Opal gives her a look. “You’ve already kissed her more than once. You’ve met her _father_.”

“We were pretending!”

“Alright, I’ll give you that one,” Opal snorts. “But you’ve definitely gone on a suspicious amount of ‘coffee dates’ since then.”

“Is it a date when I’ve never actually asked her on one?” Korra wonders. She hops on the counter next to where Opal is standing, her legs swinging back and forth. “We like hanging out together, when we can. She’s an interesting person, you know? I just love being around her.” The expression on Opal’s face reads precariously close to pity and Korra rolls her eyes. “Ugh, don’t say anything. I know how that sounded.”

“You’re adorable,” Opal smirks, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Don’t feel bad about it. It’s pretty clear that she loves being around you as well. Even before that dinner she was always finding excuses to meet up with you.”

Despite the airy way in which the words fall from Opal’s mouth, they leave Korra momentarily dumbstruck. She’s right, of course; but Opal hadn’t taken into consideration that Korra had been responsible for half of those encounters.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Have fun on your coffee date,” Opal says as she disappears to the office with a wave.

“It’s not a—” Korra starts, but Opal is already gone.

The coffee dates—if you can call them _dates_ , the can of worms Opal wants badly to open but Korra prefers not to get into—have become a regular thing. Korra isn’t even sure when this development happened, exactly. One moment Naga was running away from her on the street, the next she was kissing Asami in front of her father and now here she is, waiting on her in the sun just outside of Delish.

Although the order is all messed up, Korra supposes she should’ve seen this coming. Asami is beautiful; there is no denying the way her heart skipped a beat when she first saw her. She’s a great kisser as well, Korra thinks to herself, as she rubs her cheeks in an attempt to wipe away her blush.

She really doesn’t want to give Opal the satisfaction of being right. But Asami is tall, kind, charming and absolutely gorgeous, and Korra is only human. She can’t blame Korra for developing a little crush on her, right?

Korra sighs, checking the time. That’s another thing—she knows exactly when Asami’s lunch break starts. She knows her coffee order, too (a cappuccino, but with a shot of hazelnut on days she feels that she deserves it). Perhaps the worst part of it is her inability to stop checking up on Future Industries’ latest projects so she has some idea of what Asami is working on.

Maybe it’s that new model that was announced last week that’s keeping her today? Just as the thought forms in Korra’s mind, a finger tapping on her shoulder pulls her back to the real world.

“Hey,” Korra breathes.

There she is, standing in front of her, slightly flushed with perfectly messy hair. “Sorry I’m late,” Asami replies, giving her an apologetic smile that’s only slightly strained. “Meeting ran late.”

“That’s okay,” Korra says, returning it with a carefree one. “Come on.”

They enter and greet Wu, who has come to know them as regulars over the past week or so, even though out of solidarity to her friend Korra tries to alternate between Delish and the Bean.

“Two cappuccino’s, please,” Asami says.

“And a shot of hazelnut in one of those,” Korra adds, before being subjected to a raised eyebrow from Asami. “What? You worked hard today.”

Asami chuckles, leaning against the bar as they wait for their coffees. “I suppose you’re right,” she hums. “I feel like I’ve worked the entire day when it’s only noon.”

It’s a beautiful day, so they take their coffees outside and walk to a small city park nearby, where they can sit and fully enjoy the warm light of the sun. Asami is especially dazzling like this, with her dark hair shining, the skin between her eyes crinkling a little against the brightness as she leans her head back to take a swig. The movement exposes her smooth neck; Korra’s heart speeds up a little bit and she averts her eyes quickly.

“So, what were you working on this morning that has got you so busy?” she asks. “Or is that confidential?”

“It is,” Asami replies with a playful grin. “And I won’t break my NDA, but…” Her green eyes inspect Korra closely. “I suppose a tiny crack wouldn’t hurt.” Korra doesn’t think she poses much of a threat to whatever the project is, but still; it’s an obvious display of the trust Asami has in her. The realization comes in the form of a warmth blossoming in her chest, taking root in her stomach and spreading through her body like branches growing in fast motion. “We’re developing a new car fit for professional racing as well as consumer use. It’s called the Sato GX.”

“What does that stand for?” Korra asks, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. “Grand… Xenon? No, wait— Golden Xylophone.”

Asami snorts and bumps their knees together. “Honestly, I just thought it sounded enticing. When you hear ‘GX’, don’t you think of a fast car?”

Korra considers it. “Hm, I suppose. Although I’m not the best person to ask—I don’t usually pay to attention to cars. I prefer to bike.”

Just like that night, before, Asami’s hand finds her thigh and pats it lightly. “That explains a lot,” Asami says with a teasing grin. Once again, Korra can’t bear to look her in the eyes and she tries to will away the heat spreading to her cheeks.

The day after, it rains.

Asami has beaten her to it today and is already waiting on what has become their couch, tucked away in a corner of the Busy Bean.

Always the optimist, Korra had left the shelter without an umbrella, with full faith that the rain wasn’t coming down that bad and the way to the Bean wasn’t that long. She had miscalculated a bit, Korra thinks as she runs a hand through her hair to rid it of stray drops.

“I already ordered for us,” Asami says, handing Korra her coffee as she joins her on the couch. “Although—I’m sure we could get you a towel as well?”

“Very funny,” Korra says. She goes for disgruntled but with the grin pulling up the corner of her mouth, it must look like she means it. A drop of water glides down the side of her face, falling off her cheek.

“Just making sure you don’t get sick.” Asami’s hand suddenly hovers before her face—Korra freezes, focusing on inhaling and exhaling as Asami’s thumb rubs away the wetness on her cheeks.

It might be Korra’s imagination, but before pulling back, the touch lingers. “You don’t have to worry,” Korra mutters, picking up her coffee and taking a sip. “I haven’t been sick in years.”

“Really?”

“Really. I’ve got the immune system of shark.”

Asami snorts. “Why a shark?”

“They’re immune to almost every disease,” Korra tells her. “Also, they’re badass. They’ve got five rows of teeth.” Her grin widens as Asami chuckles again.

“And they can’t stop swimming or they’ll die, right?”

Korra chuckles too and softly bumps with her shoulder against Asami’s as she leans back into the couch’s soft back. “Right.” The entrance bell rings, drawing her eyes to it. In walks Wu, his hair impeccable despite the storm outside, his face like thunder. With determined steps he walks up to the counter and starts going off at Mako with hushed urgency. It’s almost like he’s trying to avoid causing a scene. “Do you think they’d die if they stop arguing?”

“Shh,” Asami tells her, putting her hand on Korra’s arm and squeezing. “I’m trying to hear.” Korra just starts laughing, prompting a few halfhearted slaps on her arm from Asami.

“If you don’t pay me in full, I’ll have no choice but to get the law involved!” Wu says with confidence, waving around a piece of paper Korra assumes is some sort of bill.

Mako just lets his head sink into his hands. “I didn’t scratch your Audi, Wu. You probably bumped into something when you parked in _my spot_.”

“Are you insulting my driving skills?”

“Well, they can’t be any worse than your coffee.”

Wu is fuming—if they keep this up any longer, Korra is sure steam will start coming out of his ears. She snorts at the visual, hiding the strained smirk on her face behind her cup and actively avoiding eye contact with Asami. “At least it’s not so bad as your stupid _eyebrows_.”

Mako rolls his eyes. “Please. You wish you had my eyebrows.”

A stifled laugh escapes Asami’s throat and her grip on Korra’s arm turns tighter, as she pulls her closer to turn and hide her face in the nape of Korra’s neck. Her breaths come in bursts while she tries not to laugh too loudly and it distracts Korra enough that she momentarily forgets what they’re laughing about—still, the dumbstruck smile stays on her face.

When she glances over at Asami and encounters those shining green eyes, Korra’s breath catches. Asami’s hand is warm on her bare arm and she is soft where their knees, thighs and shoulders touch. This is the closest Korra has ever felt to the other girl—in both the physical and emotional meaning of the word. Her mind drifts to when they met up for the first time after the company dinner, and Asami had asked her about soulmates.

It seems that that evening had been something of a turning point for the both of them, Korra thinks as she exhales, relaxing against the back of the couch and inadvertently allowing Asami to press up to her a bit closer. Even while she’s still unsure about her own feelings, maybe Opal was right; maybe, Asami’s actions on their fake date weren’t all that fake. Maybe, if she confessed her crush, her feelings would be reciprocated.

Korra decides to shelf that thought for now. She’s content to stay here, sipping her cappuccino while trying not to laugh too obnoxiously, with Asami warm against her side.

The rain has stopped when they part ways a little while later. It’s probably a figment of her imagination—after they’ve said their goodbyes and started walking in opposite directions, Korra can swear she feels a light tug on her finger, pulling her back.


End file.
